Loving Ashlynn (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 25 - Revelations in November (Samson Conrad POV) Pt.1

A/N: NOT EDITED.

Chapter 25 - Revelations in November (Samson Conrad POV) Pt.1

I'm the most patient person in our family, outside of mom but she's had years of practice and doesn't really count. Out of all my siblings, I was also the most stubborn in a way. I wanted to do things in my own time. I cannot remember for myself but when mom would tease us kids, she always made note to stick it to me that once, though I was fully capable of crawling. I sat and cried because she walked a head of me and wouldn't come back to get me.

How far did she walk? Less than five feet.

Was I injured? Not at all, I just felt jilted that she passed me by.

How long did I cry for? Forty minutes.

Did mom come get me? Nope.

What happened? My uncle Trevor came over in the middle of my cry fest and scooped me up, carrying me to the sofa where mom was sitting. And if you hear it from mom and not uncle Trevor, she'll be sure to tell anyone that is around, "And would you believe that he looked over his shoulder and glared at me?" her tone mirthful.

And that stubbornness, of course it followed when I was learning to walk, talk, eat solids, read, get potty trained...

I've always been someone that does things in my own time and there are not many things in the world that can make me change who I am at my core. I think that's why I got on well with Fatima. Despite her weirdness, which I now know more of the backstory, I'm amazed at how much strength she has. I try to put myself in her shoes and that doesn't end very well because if mainstream media had to be trusted, Fatima would have been locked away her whole life but would already be the most popular girl in school. She'd be dating... well certainly not me because I was no athlete, and no one would be the wiser.

She'd change everything about herself, and pretend to be someone she wasn't.

It's as though everything I'm expecting for Fatima, she does the exact opposite. Or I'm not even sure if it's the opposite, it's more like across the street, down the block, two miles east and near that one iffy looking bridge.

And that was another thing about her. Fatima was like this running train that we had in Bend. For a long time, the train tracks, they literally had no reason to be there. They were never used. Many people from school would hang around it for no other reason than it was out of the way of adult supervision. Between the ages of seven and early fourteen, not a single train, freight or otherwise had used those tracks. Then, out of the blue... one day driving by we noted that they were doing maintenance on the tracks and a week or so later, well, there it was.

Fatima made me feel like those train tracks. Made my heart, the part of me that smiles without feeling guilty, feel like those tracks. Useless before its true reason for even being came along.

We were a lot a like in many ways but she was teaching me the pull and push of life again. Giving and taking. I wanted to spend a good portion of my time with Fatima, especially knowing that she had missed so much of life. Just making memories for all the ones that she has missed. However, with her, it was almost like hanging out with a toddler. You wanted to keep them engaged, but too much simulation and bam... you had a tantrum or crying fit on your hands. Or maybe that was just...